“Trina?” Horror filled me.

Like all undead, the once beautiful Trina wore what she’d died in. Her forever outfit happened to be a black tank and a pair of gray sweatpants—what she’d practiced fighting zombies in. She’d loved to slick back her short hair, but tonight it stuck out in spikes. Soon, it would fall out, leaving her bald. Her skin had a grayish tint, and her once lovely eyes were now red and drooping at the corners.

I...I...

I had loved this girl. Loved her still. When Cole and I had broken up, and I’d been at my lowest, she’d done everything in her power to pick me up. I had trained with her. She had taught me how to drive. And now...

This was her life. Her un-life. Endless hunger. Until she experienced a second death—brought about by her dearest friends. By us.

We had to end her.

I had no words.

No, that wasn’t true. I had these: pain, guilt, regret, remorse, sadness, torment.

Yes, that one. Torment. I was shredded inside. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to put myself back together this time.

“She’s not the only one.” Cole pointed.

As Trina—not Trina, not anymore, just a shell—swiped her arm through the slats in the gate, desperate to reach us, two other zombies shoved her out of the way, and I lost my breath all over again. Lucas and Collins were zombies, too.

I covered my mouth with shaky hands. Anima hadn’t just sent a horde after us; they’d sent our slain friends, knowing how terribly it would hurt us to forever end them, probably thinking we would hesitate to deliver the deathblow, allowing other zombies to swoop in and end us.

Can’t give them the satisfaction. “Keep moving,” I demanded. The longer we stayed here, staring, the harder it would be to act. Grief would overtake us, hinder us. “Now!”

We launched into motion and finally arrived at the entrance of the tunnel, hidden behind the wall of the gazebo. Like good little soldiers, we navigated the dank, narrow corridor single file.

At the exit, a monitor with images of the surrounding yard waited. No zombies seemed to be within reach, but then, the screens inside the house hadn’t shown any zombies, either.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Cole announced. “Jaclyn, you will stay here and watch the bodies. If someone receives a mortal injury, call Ankh. I’ll go out first. Frosty, you’ll be last. You’ll shut the door and guard it. The rest of you will come in from behind and injure as many zombies as possible, tossing them at Ali as soon as she’s lit.” He turned to me. “Your only job is to light up.”

I nodded, already combating nerves. No pressure, right?

Everyone pressed against the wall, leaving the walkway clear so Mr. Ankh would have room to work if necessary. I closed my eyes and separated, air blustering against small patches of exposed skin.

Cole climbed the ladder and flipped the lid, both of which had been doused in Blood Lines, making them tangible. He tossed out a minigrenade. Boom! Grunts sounded. A leg fell through the opening, the shoeless foot still twitching. The bomb wouldn’t have hurt the zombies in collars. They weren’t in the spirit realm, where the bomb detonated, but in the physical realm. We’d have to fight them another way.

As Frosty crouched and placed his now-glowing hand over it, the rest of us scaled the ladder.

We entered a bona fide war zone.

The forest surrounding Mr. Ankh’s house teemed with zombies. The bomb had killed the ones in the immediate area, but hordes of others weren’t very many yards away. They scented us and rushed over en masse.

My friends met them in the middle.

I remained in place. I had one job, and I would do it. Light up.

A small flicker...gone.

Come on, come on. I can do this. I shook my arms. Light!

Another flicker, another vanishing act.

I didn’t have to rack my brain for answers. Deep down, I really didn’t want to do this. Trina, Lucas and Collins were out here. Was I really going to ash them?

You have to. They’re already dead.

Uh-oh. Incoming! I withdrew a gun and fired, nailing a zombie in the neck. The creature hit the ground but swiftly climbed to his feet. I fired again and again, nailing him in both kneecaps to hamper his steps. He went down, and though he stayed down, he crawled toward me.

More zombies focused on me. I shot three before my gun jammed. Can’t panic. I pulled back the slide and tried again. Click, click. I cursed. This kind of thing rarely happened; we didn’t keep cheap weapons around. Why here, why now? I tossed the useless piece of crap to the ground and withdrew the axes, then launched forward, decapitating the zombie already on the ground as I passed.

Slash. A head rolled.

Hack. Another head rolled.

Thump. The blade of the ax cut through a zombie’s chest, but got stuck.

I swung up with my left hand to hack at the zombie behind him with the remaining ax, but he blocked me. At the same time, I released the one that was stuck and palmed a blade to slice through a spine. To a human, it would have been a killing blow. The zombie leaned forward and tried to bite me. I ducked, spun and hacked at both of my opponents at the same time. One lost his head; the other lost the lower part of his jaw and some tongue.

I stomped on the chest of the zombie who was still wearing my ax, breaking his sternum and ribs, freeing the weapon.

Light up. Now!

Again, the meager flicker vanished. Exasperation...irritation—zombies had the upper hand, because of me.

I needed time. Time Helen’s ability could give me.